


Redemption Day

by AgathaCrispy



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kidnapping, Mind Control
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-11-12 17:04:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11166240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgathaCrispy/pseuds/AgathaCrispy
Summary: Someone's waking Cryo Bay colonists out of turn, and Sara Ryder is on the case. From recreational drugs to forgotten antagonists to venture capitalism, Ryder must redefine her moral code in the rapidly developing Heleus Cluster.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I just wanted to write a fic in homage to Mass Effect 2's "Stolen Memory" DLC, and this is what happened. I have no regrets (yet).
> 
> Big ups to snappleducated for the indispensable help and for being an absolutely insane darling.

* * *

 

 

The doors to the Pathfinder’s Quarters closed with a hiss. Ryder unwrapped her towel and proceeded to scrub her hair dry. Looking out, she contemplated the great black void right outside the however-many-centimeters thick glass protecting her inside the Tempest. The hum of the ship vibrated beneath her feet. She wiggled her toes.

 

“Maybe a bit too existential,” she muttered.  

 

 _Perhaps it's not an inappropriate sentiment for one who has recently eliminated her third Remnant Architect,_ SAM assured.

 

She cracked a glance at the galaxy beyond her bed, dropped the towel, and stood, naked, with her hands on her hips. Come what may. Cora had told her it was a scientifically proven power stance. The hands on the hips, not the nudity.

 

_You have new email, Pathfinder._

 

“Thanks, SAM,” she sighed. “Someone's already got the coordinates for the fourth?”

 

_None of these email subject headers contain as such. There is a message from Reyes Vidal._

 

Ryder felt her insides tighten. She wanted to see how long she could resist before she allowed herself to check her omni-tool. She tried counting as far as she could remember in Shelesh. Her palms were getting hot, too much like a certain smuggler’s on her hips. Ryder suddenly felt _exposed_ and threw on a night shirt.

 

Twelve seconds. Damn.

 

 

_Could I persuade you to come to Kadara? Don’t worry, it’ll be business and pleasure, I promise. Also, I must confess we need your help with a sensitive situation concerning an agent. Call me when you can._

 

 

 She’ll bite. “SAM, what’s the time of day over there?”

 

_The sun rises on Kadara Port._

 

“Wow, that is surprisingly poetic of you.”

 

_However, Jaal is using the vidcom terminal on a line to Havarl._

 

“Dang.”

 

_Would you like me to alert him that you need to use it?_

 

“Nah. It wouldn’t be right to kick him off the phone with his family just so I can enjoy some light-to-medium-scale flirting.”

 

_Of course, Pathfinder._

 

She took one more meditative breath to refocus grappling through a casual reply.

 

 

_Would love to ring you up, but one of my crew is hogging the vidcom. So it goes!_

 

 _Unfortunately for you, I’m eight hours away from docking at the Nexus. Unfortunately for me, I’m eight hours away from docking at the Nexus_ and _having to talk to Tann and Addison. Something about the Cryo Bay on the Hyperion._

 

_I’ll come as soon as I can._

 

 

She almost signed off with _Sara_ but reconsidered it. What about just an _S_? Minutes passed while mulling over professionalism in email correspondence. She groaned at her overthinking and hit Send.

 

“SAM, I’ve got time for what, two REM cycles before we hit Zheng He?” she asked, crawling into bed.

 

_Correct._

 

“I’ll take ‘em,” she grumbled. Her omni-tool pinged with a notification.

 

_That’s fine. I only wanted to be upfront and tell you I just need location intelligence. My people will handle any extraction. Take care, Ryder._

 

 

Despite herself, she smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

 The Director of Colonial Affairs was waiting outside of the Hyperion Ark, and Ryder could already feel the roiling waves of frustration several clicks away.

 

“Director.”

 

“Pathfinder.”

 

A beat.

 

“Tann asked me to extend his congratulations on taking care of the Remnant Architect on Eos.”

 

Before Ryder could reply, the doors opened, and Addison turned. “Follow me.”

 

“I’m assuming you’re holding off on telling me anything helpful until we get there because Operations wants to contain whatever this is,” Ryder asked Addison, who barely restrained curling a lip.

 

“Assume away.”

 

Ryder recalled the happier times she and Addison shared together. Like the day Ryder paved the way for Podromos, and Addison spoke to her without clenching her jaw the first time. Or when Ryder defeated the Archon, and _everyone_ adored her. Ah, nothing gold can stay.

 

They reached the chillier depths of the Cryo Bay. Addison’s assistant, Vladimir, was cross-checking the latest bug report when Addison and Ryder turned the corner. There. Two hibernation pods lay open and bare.

 

“Pathfinder, it’s good to have you back on the Nexus.”

 

“Thank you, Mr. Brecka. Did someone leave a one-star review about their cryo-stasis?”

 

Addison ignored her. “These were found several rows back.”

 

“What, two colonists just woke up early out of the blue and decided to step out for a stroll?”

 

“And have otherwise gone unnoticed on the Nexus? Hardly. There are more. I already have the pods marked for you.” Addison’s eyes flashed dangerously.

 

Ryder decided to hold off on any more rhetorical questions.

 

Putting on a strained smile, Vladimir picked up where his boss left off. “We've been working fourteen-hour shifts to identify who were in these pods. But our efforts have been stymied by a programming error from last week that ended up scrambling a number of our hard drives, unfortunately including most of the cryo-stasis records. The network just cleared before you docked, but we’re still piecing everything back together.”

 

That explained the Director’s icy mood.

 

“Do you think it’s possible what happened with the programming could be related to the pods opening?” Ryder lifted her omni-tool to begin scanning. “SAM, anything you can find for us that the staff might have missed? Hair, sweat, fingerprints?”

 

Addison crossed her arms and watched dispassionately as the Pathfinder and SAM checked out both pods.

 

 _I am afraid there are no traces of either colonist_ . _These pods appear to have been already sterilized_ . _As to your first question, I am currently computing test runs to see how the pod was opened. One moment._

 

“Looks like it was a… clean getaway.”

 

“Ryder, I have unaccounted-for colonists waking before they’re scheduled and running around without medical or psychological clearance. I do not have time for bad jokes, even yours.”

 

Addison’s eyes were two blue-green slits.

 

Vladimir knew there were no reports of tampering with the Cryo Bay atmospherics, but he could swear the temperature dropped ten degrees. He took that moment to look at his datapad thoughtfully.

 

“You think they’re running around the Nexus?” Ryder asked, sobered.

 

Addison didn’t answer immediately. Something in her posture shifted.  Frustration thawed to guarded doubt, and she considered Ryder for a moment.

 

“No. I don’t believe they’re still on the Nexus because I don’t think they got out on their own.”

 

_Pathfinder, a majority of my simulations agree with Director Addison. I posit that each colonist was still asleep when their pod was unlocked._

 

Ryder groaned. “An inside job?” Now she really understood Addison’s sour face. She tried not to ogle Vladimir with too much suspicion.

 

Addison rolled her eyes. “I already vetted him. Besides, he was with me the night the pods were opened.”

 

“Oh?” Ryder risked a grin.

 

 _“Taking minutes at the last budget meeting,”_ Addison nearly hissed. It became even harder for Ryder not to sneak a peek at the shrinking man who was rapidly resembling one of the tomatoes in the Hydroponics wing.

 

“Right.”

 

“I have to go. Weekly conference on outpost reports, and we have to get back to Operations in ten minutes. Remember, _discretion_. You have what I can give you, Ryder. Let me know otherwise.”

 

She barely gestured to Vladimir before he hurriedly followed her out of the Cryo Bay. They left Ryder adjusting her scarf as she moved on to scan the next opened pod when it hit her.   _The protesters_. When she was confident she was alone, she let out an angry, frustrated, yawp that echoed off the cold white walls.  She could feel a headache beginning to brew.

 

* * *

 

Much later, Ryder made her way to the Vortex to drop off a succulent she stumbled across outside of New Tuchanka.

 

“Oh, this looks fantastic,” Anan T’Mari thrilled upon sighting the spiky green and orange shoots. “Dutch, what do you think? I can’t wait to see what we can distill out of this.”

 

“Not before I try the nectar,” the bartender breathed, seizing the plant from Ryder’s (wisely) gloved hands. “It's been _centuries_ since I've had a proper simple syrup.”

 

“Dutch,” Anan gently reminded. “Don't you have a new drink to show her?”

 

“--What? Oh-- yes.”

 

Before Ryder could protest that she was still on the clock and trying not to exacerbate the growing hammer behind her sinuses, Dutch was already hurling botanicals and free-pouring spirits the color of jewels into a shaker. He began muddling furiously. He shook the mixing tin like he was trying to infuse his soul into the cocktail through fluid dynamics.

 

After straining the drink into a chilled glass, he stared owlishly at it but didn't push it towards Ryder. He grabbed a short straw from the bar top and used his index finger to vacuum a sip to test. She blinked, waited.

 

Suddenly, Dutch made a growl that sounded like both “Eureka!” and “Fuck!” and garnished the cocktail with a tiny, fragrant purple flower. He presented it to Ryder but kept his eyes on the drink as it swirled in the glass.

 

“Thanks-- I mean, uh, cheers.” She raised it in a small toast before taking a tipple. Bright citrus on top of subtle vegetal notes while a spicy ginger-like spirit left a tangy aftertaste.

 

“This may be the best yet,” Ryder moaned. She closed her eyes and breathed in the bouquet, staying herself from immediately chugging down more.

 

Dutch only huffed and disappeared into the back with the succulent.

 

Anan started, “Before you go, there's something else.”

 

 _There's always something else_ , Ryder sighed.

 

The asari leaned over the bar to murmur, “I heard through the grapevine that someone discovered a new psychotropic plant on Aya.”

 

“What, like Earth cannabis?”

 

Anan shrugged elegantly. “I wouldn’t know. I never inhaled.”

 

“Right. So you're _not_ asking me to bring some back for you.”

 

“It’s for the beverage program, I _swear_. I gotta get a good run in before Nexus brass tries make it illegal.” She winked.

 

That earned a laugh from Ryder, who then smiled conspiratorially. “I haven’t done something like this for someone since Scott and I were sixteen, but... mission accepted.”

 

“The Vortex is in your debt, _Grassfinder_.”

 

Ryder sniggered, almost sloshing her drink, and hushed Anan. Out of the corner of her eye she spied Liam at a table, intently listening to a female turian with familiar colony markings. _Sid_.

 

“Hey, you rascals,” she greeted before plopping down to join them.

 

“Oh, hi, Ryder,” Sid faltered, subvocals chiming in surprise. Her conversation with Liam absorbed her attention that she didn't notice the Pathfinder approach the table. Judging by the diluted color gradation of their drinks, both beverages had been abandoned for some time.

 

“Got any words of advice on friendship for Sid here?” Liam asked.

 

“Uh--”

 

“It's really probably nothing, please, honestly. Most likely I’m overreacting,” Sid started, waving defensively.

 

“Respectfully, I disagree,” Liam countered. “Trust your instincts. And my memory may be off, but I recall a certain turian being an integral part of saving a group of settlers in the Remav system.”

 

Sid flushed, though it wasn’t clear if it was from alcohol or embarrassment or both.

 

“Great instincts, yes, inarguably,” Ryder teased. “However, may I refresh the table’s memory that, you, Kosta, are not invulnerable to following your gut and neglecting to inform the rest of us.”

 

Even Liam’s dimples were mischievous when he grinned. “Ah, of course, that’s right. Thank you, _Pathfinder_ , for reminding me of an important lesson on my personal growth here in Andromeda. But I’m serious. You should tell her, Sid.”

 

The young turian sighed, finished the remainder of her drink, and cleared her throat, subvocals relaxed. “One of my friends at work started seeing this guy, and she’s been kind of… well, what’s that word you humans like to say… _flaky_. We kinda got into a spat when I mentioned it. But it’s just not like her to no call, no show. I didn’t know what to say when our boss asked me about her. She hasn’t been responding to my messages.”

 

Ryder nodded sympathetically. “Blowing you off? That sucks.”

 

With her glass empty, Sid had moved on to nibbling pensively on her straw. “Well, yes, that, but there’s another thing. We made a location-sharing app, for just the two of us, one time we were hanging out. And. Maybe we got a line wrong somewhere, or her omni-tool’s firmware overrode something, but now it says she’s not on the station anymore.”

 

Liam met Ryder’s eyes. She gave him a slight nod while Sid continued brainstorming, eyes glued to the table.

 

“...I don’t know, maybe she’s playing some kind of sexy off-world hooky. I don’t wanna narc on her fun or anything.”

 

“I get it,” Ryder assured. “Why don’t you still give us your friend’s information, we’ll keep an ear to the ground, and the three of us will feel a little better about the situation.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Someone’s waking colonists on the Hyperion?” Cora asked incredulously while brushing her teeth. “And before their scheduled time? Can you imagine how that’s going to start another wave of grievances?”

 

" _That's_ your concern?” Ryder hollered from the shower. She had been busy convincing herself it definitely wasn’t a waste of resources to make sure she smelled fresh before landing on Kadara.  At least the shower dulled the knife-like flashes of pain behind her brows.

 

“Of course not,” her lieutenant retorted back. “Just seems like someone wanted to reunite with their loved ones and not wait in line like everybody else. You don’t think it has to do with those stasis protesters you got arrested?”

 

There was no reply but the shower running. Cora winced.

 

“I’m-- I didn’t mean to say it like that. I know it was Kandros who-- I know you felt really badly about it. That one we put off for too long. There were so many priorities... one of the aspects to being Pathfinder that I don’t envy you.” Eventually Cora heard Ryder clear her throat.

 

“No, no, it’s not-- it’s fine. I’m not--” Ryder’s voice composed. She turned the shower off. “...I’d like to take another look at the Nexus departure logs, specifically cargos.”

 

“Of course, I’ll message the docking bay team lead.” Cora turned to leave when the shower door opened and Ryder stepped out. Cora opened her mouth to say something when Gil strolled in and took one look at the Pathfinder.

 

“Jesus, Ryder, did you break your loofah scrubbing yourself down? We won’t have to guess where you’re going by the hand prints we’re going to find on you. Do an image search of ‘Bernini hands’ on your omni-tool.”

 

“We’re just swapping intel!”

 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be swapping _something_.”

 

Gil immediately broke for the ladder outside and climbed like the devil was behind him as Ryder howled his name, tried to run past Cora, and slipped.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ty ty ty ty ty to snappleducated for catching all the things. You are the bestist. Sestras 4ever
> 
> Also, ahhhh I'll fix the spacing on Ch 1. I promise.

 

Lexi dubiously eyed Ryder’s coffee and protein bar.

“When I have a headache, I get nauseous and lose my appetite,” Ryder claimed, shrugging. Malnutrition was a better fate than explaining that the prospect of seeing Reyes sent her stomach into knots.

“If I don't like the state of your blood pressure when you get back, we’re going to have a little chat.”

Ryder swore Lexi’s stethoscope glinted maliciously under the lights. Was the headache metastasizing into hallucinations?

 _Just your guilty conscience_ , SAM assured.

After Lexi left, Ryder harrumphed and chomped a decisive bite out of the protein bar.  Peebee, who was silent during the shakedown, too busy ploughing through several helpings of cereal, set her bowl down.

"I don’t know what she’s barking about. I’m sure your blood pressure will be just fine when you get back.” Peebee smiled wolfishly with a thumbs up, which turned into a rude gesture simulating copulation.  Ryder threw the protein bar at Peebee and stormed out. With a huff, she stepped off the Tempest’s ramp.

Kadara Port was bigger, louder, and busier. She counted more than ten new storefronts, and buildings upon buildings higher towards the red sky. She took her time through the bustling marketplace, its spices and street food. Ryder couldn't tell if it helped or hurt her head, but it all smelled like something mouth-watering. A world different from the climate-controlled Nexus. Though most of her crew only grudgingly mentioned it, they reveled in the bustling black market sprawl the port city offered.

“I’m gettin’ stuff,” was all Drack ever said.

“Me too,” followed Vetra.

Outside of Kralla’s was a mixed camp of aliens engrossed in a Quasar tournament, whoops and laughs ringing. No, her headache definitely was not leaving anytime soon. Her annoyance _at_ the headache didn’t help. She wanted to be in a good mood when she--

Maybe she was just dehydrated.

_It is recommended to match each cup of coffee with a cup of water to make up the diuretic effect._

Ryder made a face.  “Ugh, SAM, ‘diuretic’ is the one of the last words I want to hear right now.”

_If you rehydrate, Dr. T’Perro will have less ammunition against you later._

“Alright, alright, yes, good argument. I am now speed-walking to Tartarus. Way to look out for my well-being. You can tell I mean that genuinely, right?”

_Yes._

The slums looked a little better. At least there were fewer chemical waste rivers. Ryder felt hands pawing the back of her jacket. She whirled around.  “What the shit--?”  

A glassy-eyed, slightly sweaty young woman looked surprised, giggled, and held her hands up in surrender.

 “Forgive me, I’m so sorry. I just saw you back there, and your jacket looked so amazing. I just had to touch it. I haven’t touched fabric from the Milky Way in forever.  It felt amazing under my fingers. This is so rude of me. Invading your personal space like a… space invader.” She dissolved into more giggles.

_This woman is displaying symptoms atypical of Oblivion users. If you provide a diversion, I may gather more information._

While smiling like there weren't knives in her skull, Ryder slapped on her detective cap and kept the woman talking.

“Yeah, yeah, no problem, it’s okay… what about _you_? Having a good time?”

“Ugh, let me tell you.  It was a fucking furnace in there. I had to take a breather, air out the cousins, you know what I mean. But now I feel _amazing._ The horizon looks _amazing_ . I feel like a fucking vidstar,” the woman confessed. “Last week when I hit the bar, shit was cut with something janky, but _this_ is a special kind of heaven. Wow, you are so pretty, look at you, oh my god, and, you’ve got the cutest freckle right there almost under your scarf.”

The woman was clearly under the influence and harmless. Ryder still felt a mixture of flattery and embarrassment. She cleared her throat.

“Hey, by any chance, have you come across a girl named Mick running around here?”

“Mick?” The woman repeated the name thoughtfully and went inside her head for a moment. “No, sorry. Don’t know anyone by that name here. Mmm hey, do you wanna come chill with us?” Her dilated pupils shimmered with hope.

Ryder ruefully shook her head. “Sorry, peach, I’m still on the clock.”

 “That's too bad. If you change your mind, find the Salarian in the green armor on the second floor and tell him you’re looking for _party supplies_.”

 “Got it. Thanks so much.”

 “Come find us by the dancers’ cages.” The woman turned to leave.

 “Hey, wait!” Ryder called out. “Can I get a quick picture, _vidstar_?”

 The woman shrieked with delight and blew a kiss when Ryder raised her omni-tool. The woman floated away, blissfully unaware Ryder was scanning for biometrics.

  _Her body is generating higher than normal levels of serotonin.  I also read significant rises in dopamine and norepinephrine levels_.

 “Sounds like fun,” Ryder grumbled, headache thundering back with a vengeance. Ryder massaged her brows, wondering how the Vortex could possibly make a party drink safe to consume.

 She came upon the neon lights and curiously fragrant smoke wafting from revelers milling around the front and back entrances. Ryder thought how absurd she looked, half bent over, still crawling towards the thumping bass and strobe lights. _Like moth to flame,_ she groused. With each step the pressure in her skull thickened.

 Ryder pushed through the front doors almost on cue with the next thundering song that came on. The hot crowd around her began drinking harder and dancing faster. The club lights bathed Ryder in red pools. She reached Reyes’ door and waited, head pounding. Security would have already spotted her and pinged him. Her hands flew back to kneading her forehead, and she shut her eyes. The doors opened, and Ryder stepped forward. The roar of the club disappeared. Two more deep rubs, and she’d say hi, she promised.

 “Nnnnsorry, hi,” she managed.

  _"Sara.”_

She forgot how good it felt when he said her name. When she opened her eyes, Reyes’ smile fell to a frown. Still too handsome, she deliriously thought.

“Sara,” he repeated. “You're in a bad way. Come here.”

“I need party supplies,” she muttered, sinking next to him on the couch.

"No, you don't.”

He was already pushing a water glass into her hands. She hadn't realized how parched she was, draining it in one go. When Reyes took it back, she didn’t let go but touched the tips of her fingers to his gloved ones, a reminder of the whiskey bottle they shared. Reyes smiled. He put his arm around her shoulders.

“Is it your implant? Or do I need to tell SAM to be nicer to you.”

_It is not my fault that the Pathfinder chose a breakfast with medium nutritional value and drank only coffee._

“The Pathfinder has a history of bad choices, doesn’t she?” Reyes looked meaningfully at Ryder.

“I’m feeling better,” she groaned. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll have the slideshow presentation ready.” She let herself rest her head on his shoulder as she willed the headache to evaporate.

“I’m sorry. This probably wasn’t what you meant by business and pleasure,” she said, reaching up again to massage her sinuses.

“I’ll have you know I had something planned, but I can improvise.” He took off his gloves and started to remove hers.

“Whoa there, cowboy, I’m feeling better but not _that_ better.”

“Hush, that’s not what I’m doing.”

“Well, what are you--  _oh_.”

His thumbs dragged hard circles on the back of her hand, kneading and relieving the pressure points. It had been months since she was in Kadara. Ryder’s heart skipped a beat. She watched how he moved her hand in his, tender and thorough. Her eyes glazed over, and she dropped her head back on his shoulder.

“I’ll take care of the pleasure, and you can start the business part when you’re ready,” he murmured.

“Mm but I like the sound of your voice. You go first. What’s going on with your agent?”

“As you wish, Pathfinder.” Reyes huffed but pressed a dutiful kiss to her hand. “I needed someone to follow a lead Keema and I had been looking into. She thinks, if you'll forgive the metaphor, there’s another player on the board.”

“Oh no, not another crime lord,” Ryder moaned. “My headache was starting to go away.”

Reyes said nothing but moved on to her other hand.

“It’s okay,” she amended. “At least I have one on my side. Figuratively and literally.”

He smiled. She felt better. _Your blood pressure is stabilizing,_ SAM agreed _._

“At least I have a Pathfinder on _my_ side,” Reyes mused. As he rubbed the invisible gnarls in her hands, Ryder had to minimize an especially embarrassing mewl. He noticed. His smile grew.

“Can I borrow SAM for financial advice if I promise to do this for you on a regular basis?” Reyes suddenly offered. At first she couldn’t tell where his tease ended and genuine interest began.

“ _Now_ I see your end game, using a gal like me for her AI.”

_I am a simulated adaptive matrix, Mr. Vidal, not a portfolio manager._

“That’s right, you tell him, SAM. You’re no one’s accountant.”

_But I can answer any questions you have on current market trends._

“What the hell, whose side are you on? You didn’t even help _me_ when I had to file my taxes!”

  _You never asked, Pathfinder. Speaking of which, there is an income tax loophole next cycle that Mr. Vidal may be able to take advantage of._

“Are you kidding me, _you_ pay taxes? _Why?_ How?” Ryder asked, incredulous. “Ugh, never mind, I’m not surprised by anything I find out you do anymore.”

Reyes had the grace to look offended. “Are you saying I’ve become boring to you?"

“When pigs fly. Which could actually be a thing in Andromeda. Don’t listen to me. I’ll shut up. You talk.”

“Anything else you want to get out?” he asked, grinning, She huffed but nothing more, except to fight a smile when he lightly pinched her hip. “Very well. I sent an agent undercover to do a little digging. She was days away from sending us coordinates when it was reported she went radio silent,” he sighed. “We noticed wholesales go up and being shipped somewhere. I don’t want to bore you with the details, but we think there’s something of a free-floating market that shows up in empty systems from time to time.”

Ryder couldn’t help herself. “I didn’t study economics, but why is that a bad thing? You already want to take these guys out of the game?”

The look in his eye was unreadable. “I never said that. Like I told you in my message, I just need her location.”

“Alright, fine, speaking of sales, will you see if anyone’s heard of any bribes to steal Nexus colonists out of their pods?” She showed him the evidence SAM corroborated. It was his turn to look surprised.

“No, honestly, no. but I’ll look into it.” She could tell the annoyed look on his face was directed at himself. He was already pulling up contacts from his omni-tool.

Almost shyly, Ryder reached for his hand. “‘preciate it. I thank you, and my noggin thanks you for your magic fingers.”  Her stomach did flip-flops at his delighted grin when she returned his kiss from earlier.  “I’m feeling much better,” she intoned, heavy with meaning.

“My mother always wanted me to be a doctor,” he said, tipping her head. He thumbed her bottom lip. She hated how she thrilled to be completely overwhelmed by him. Ryder thought her heart started to hammer in syncopation.

 _Negative. You do not have Wolfe-Parkinson-White Syndrome,_ SAM said privately. She set him on sleep mode.

“I’m-- I’m having some trouble with um-- ah fuck it, _resuscitation_ , Dr. Vidal, _stat_ ,” she nearly growled as she straddled his lap, the look on his face emboldening her. When she kissed him he let out a groan that electrified her. He grabbed the belt loops on her pants, tugging her closer, helping himself to the skin peeking under her shirt. She cleaved to him, wanting more. The headache a fading memory, she wanted to sear him into all of her senses, to suffocate her crippling guilt over the pods, the protesters, her responsibilities. Her thoughts crept towards Scott, and _Dad_. In a hurry to burn that mental bridge, Ryder thought grinding against Reyes’ lap had the highest probability to elicit the best, most distracting reaction from him.

She was right. Reyes was roughly yanking her hair back, exposing the column of her throat, drawing his sharp teeth down. She gasped. “You went somewhere,” he said, his voice thick and hot against her neck. Emotion or the heat of the moment, she couldn’t tell. “Be here with me.”

“I am,” she insisted, breathless. Their kisses turned open-mouthed, sloppy. She was about to draw her fingers to his belt buckle when--

Ryder’s omni-tool pinged with the second highest priority alert, and she let out every fuck word she could think of. She felt Reyes catching his breath, reluctant to disentangle his hands.

Cora’s message flashed: _CRYO BAY JUST IDENTIFIED POD COLONISTS -- ALL YOUNG WOMEN._

Ryder almost stumbled off Reyes, the heat in her belly transmuting to dread faster than she was ready. She struggled to hold down the rising nausea.

_NEXUS TECH LAB HAS REPORTED EQUIPMENT STOLEN. OUTBOUND CARGO SHIPS TRACKING MATCHES TYPICAL COLLECTIVE ROUTE PATTERNS. RYDER, IF THESE ARE RELATED, IT DOESN’T LOOK GOOD._

Of course it didn’t. Reyes saw the text before she could stop him. He grabbed her wrist. “This is not my doing,” he insisted, fuming. At her? The intel? She was too fired up to care.

“Then it must be the _Charlatan_ isn't keeping a tight enough rein on his fucking minions,” she hissed back at him, trying to free herself. “Let go of me.”

“Not before you fly even more off the handle,” Reyes tried not to snap at her. “Should I be insulted or flattered you’re already convinced it’s my people?”

“What _aren’t_ your people involved in?” she accused, acid in her mouth. “I know you’re running this new, _ridiculous_ drug. I didn’t want to say anything more until now because I blindly assumed it was less dangerous than Oblivion because I know you’re the reason I’m stepping over half the needles I used to see in the street.” Ryder shook her head. “ _Fine_. Fine. So we’re playing two lies and a truth. You're trying to monopolize the black market. You're smuggling Nexus equipment. You just want my help finding one agent.”

_“Sara.”_

She waited.

“I wondered how long it would take before you’d find out about the Letheum,” he said finally. “We 86’d Oblivion but needed to replace the capital it provided. I can't protect Ditaeon, like I promised you I would, without paychecks.

“The only deal I've cut,” he said, willing her to understand. “--is with Dr. Nakamoto to avoid overdoses. The cargos, I can prove to you, are not Collective. My agent-- we can figure out together.”

“And if she’s behind this,” Ryder almost sneered, becoming a spiteful creature her mother wouldn’t recognize. “What’s the worst you’d have to do? Settle it with some blood money? Find a cleaner? Nah, just fuck the Pathfinder, and she'll do it.”

“Why are you talking like this?” He tried to reach her, wanted to shake her. She hated the stab of pleasure that fluttered when she saw the brief shadow cross his face. Pain? _Did he even feel that_ , she thought vindictively.

It coursed through the same veins as the panic settling in. What was she thinking, letting herself be so careless with this man. Why did she leave the Milky Way for this? Her memory went to the seconds before her own cryo-stasis, the terror of never waking again. She thought of the missing women. Where were they when they opened their eyes? _Were_ they awake? Who was with them, their loved ones, or-- ? The knots in her chest threatened to shutter every working order in her body.

“Because I know it's what you do to people you want out of the way. It’s what you had _me_ do to those people. But I did it anyway because I’m an idiot, and I wanted you to fucking _like_ me,” Ryder seethed, burning the last of her energy. “You get to hide in the shadows, tap a couple of buttons.”

She saw his desire to argue, to tell her she had it wrong. “No,” Ryder stopped him, trying very hard not let him see her cracking open. “Heleus is witness to my fuck-ups. I don’t get to disappear because the shittiest inheritance in the galaxy forced me into a public fucking figure. And now, because of me, these women may be in trouble.” Her throat hurt.

“You’re _assuming_ they’re in trouble,” he said, careful. “They could be with their families in exile.” He shifted slowly, like she were a dangerous, wounded animal, to cover his hand over hers.

“Fucking right I’m assuming the worst. And I’m going to keep assuming the worst until I’ve found every single one of them, and I can see with my own eyes that they’re fine. I owe them that.”

“You don’t owe anyone a damn thing,” he said, harsher than he meant. “There are the other Pathfinders. When will you stop throwing yourself into the fire for the sake of the Nexus? _I don’t want to wake one morning to find out they finally killed you_.” She stared at him, her fist beginning to shake under his hand.

“I have to fix this. I have to go.”

His grip tightened. “Don't. Not like this. Not after we’ve been like this to each other. Let me help you. You know I can.”

“I have to fix this,” she repeated. He let her go. He didn’t fight her. Ryder left in a haze, shoving past the smokers outside. Too many people. She was going to be sick. She scrambled to the closest alley to retch. Holding herself against an apartment building, she suddenly missed Scott and the nights in front of a toilet when he'd hold her hair back after their misadventures in drinking underage. Her hair was longer those days. Stupidly, she wondered what Reyes would think of that.

  _"Why do you always take more than you should?”_ _Scott asked, still drunk himself._

  _"Didn’t-- seem-- s'bad-- at the time,” she groaned between retches._

  _"Think of how bad it’s going to be if you keep this up when we’re out of the house, and I won’t be here to do this because I’ll be off doing way cooler things than you.”_

  _"F-- fuck you-- Scott.” She burped._

  _"God, you’re slops right now.”_

As Ryder remembered to remove her gloves before wiping her mouth, she realized she left them back in Tartarus. “Dammit.” She groaned, then a sigh, remembering the last look on Reyes' face before she--

Ryder heard a young female voice from deeper down the alley, “I don’t-- _please_ \--” She heard a man’s voice say something back. Before she could think, Ryder’s feet were moving towards the shadowy depths.

“Is this guy bothering you,” Ryder snarled, shoulders raised, a bull dog. The man and woman turned to her, faces cold -- something was off. Ryder was breaths away from recognizing them. The woman narrowed her eyes at Ryder before hitting a button on her omni-tool.

 _W-W-Warn-wa-wa-wa-warnng- Pa----path-th-th-thfind-find-find-her--_ and then nothing.

All she felt and heard from SAM was a looming, popcorn static. The hive buzzing in her head was paralyzing. She crashed to the ground, as the man and woman watched her, dispassionately.

“Remember me?” the woman murmured as she knelt down to observe and record Ryder’s involuntary thrashing. The familiar accent, the precise, analytical gaze.

“F-f-fucking _Cerberus_ ,” Ryder spat as the rest of her limbs began seizing out of her control, and her consciousness slipped into darkness.

 _"Ex-_ Cerberus. What a shame, Sara Ryder, your attention span was so disappointing. But don’t worry, we can help with that.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tempest crew and Reyes investigate the Pathfinder's disappearance. Sara wakes up.

Keema’s voice broke through Reyes’ omni-tool. _“And what have you done to upset the Pathfinder? You made such a fuss earlier with that demand she wouldn’t see any action.”_

The ping came seconds after his Shadows alerted him to Ryder’s crew’s mass exodus from the Tempest. They were descending into the slums towards Tartarus, lead by the perennially angry blonde biotic.

“It’s not--I don’t think it’s about that.” Reyes stared at the red alert in his omni-tool display. He was already out of his room, heading in the direction of Ryder’s tracked biomarkers. The Collective nervously pinged him again when the party was joined by the Krogan. Reyes couldn't exactly say Ryder was _fine_ when she left, but he never thought she’d sic her people on him.

_"Well, darling, it looks like you have only a few minutes to finalize your plans for succession before you and half of the slums are blown apart.”_

Reyes folded Ryder’s abandoned gloves into his pocket. “She just disappeared off the map. They think it’s me.”

_“Tread carefully, Reyes. The last thing we need is the Initiative taking a bigger vested interest in Kadara because of her.”  
_

 

* * *

 

Ryder had stumbled farther into the slums than Reyes realized. The footage of her last reported traces uploaded to his omni-tool. Reyes ignored the drop in his stomach and opened the file. Like a ghost, he followed her steps.  He watched her bent with each retch as she leaned, knees shaking, against the building. No one should have been able to see her like this. He hated how vulnerable she looked. His nails cut half-moons into his palms. Reyes cursed low as he watched her leap into action, barking something he couldn’t hear. She was marching into the darkness when the footage cut out.

“Where’s the rest of it?” Reyes snapped to the Shadow. The restrained gulp on the other line gave him no pleasure.

 _“Boss-- there was a problem, but-- we’re analyzing right now how, but-- there was an electromagnetic burst that crashed our monitoring system in that sector. Something-- something very sophisticated,”_ the Salarian voice confessed reluctantly.

“The Charlatan won’t be happy to hear the Collective has been outperformed,” Reyes said, soft but dangerous. “I want everything you can get on whoever was milling around there _now_.” He hung up and turned a corner when he ran smack into a very tall armored chest. A clawed hand whipped out, painfully grabbing his shoulder.

“Vidal. What a surprise running into you here,” a familiar Turian voice trilled low with accusation. Reyes was almost blinded by the glint from Vetra’s visor, but still managed to twist out of her sharp grasp. She towered over him, deliberately obstructing his path.

“Better tell me what’s going on with you and Ryder’s hide-and-seek hanky-panky before Cora turns you into a stain on the ground.”

Reyes narrowed his eyes. “Ryder may like to play games, but this isn’t one of them.” The Turian squinted back at him.

“Ugh. Gross, okay.” The dark look in her slit eye twitched behind the scrolling interface of her visor. “And what am I supposed to tell the search party packing ten tons of biotics and firepower? Our biotic bully crew is less than a klick away,” she warned.

Reyes didn’t respond at first, pulling up his omni-tool’s interface.

The Turian was unimpressed. “The whole tough, dark, and handsome package may work on Ryder, but you’re not off the hook just yet.”

He only raised an eyebrow before replaying the footage of Ryder stomping away, leaving the frame, then black.

“So you pay your people to watch her but not to step in? What kind of crime-lord boyfriend are you?” Vetra didn't let him evade her. Before he could snap back, a woman’s voice thundered his name from up the street. The cavalry had arrived.

Cora, Drack, Jaal, and Liam circled him while Vetra yawned. All of Reyes’ directions were blocked by big, menacing aliens with guns bigger than his torso. His omni-tool reported overwhelming metrics on Cora’s flaring biotics as she eyeballed him.

“Where’s Sara?” Her clenched fists almost vibrated.

“And SAM,” Liam coughed. Cora shot him a murderous look.

Reyes kept his eye on the many muzzles trained on him. “If I'm able to walk out of here alive, I will find her. And SAM,” he added absently.

“If you’ve gotten the Pathfinder dragged into a turf war, you're not going to be doing a whole lot of anything, much less walking,” Cora growled as she edged closer to him. A red laser dot landed on her forehead. Immediately, Jaal jerked her back. The clang of weapons rattling against armor echoed down the alley. The team raised their scopes to find the Collective snipers lurking in the adjacent buildings,Cora still aimed on Reyes. They were now a motley crew of aliens all with matching red laser dots. Increasingly pissed off grumbling came from the Krogan’s chest, his hammer raised.

“Great going, Harper,” Vetra groaned. “Vidal, call off your goons.”

“Call off your Krogan,” Reyes said mildly.

No one moved. Like a bull, Drack snorted hot air and derision, his skull now tattooed with multiple dancing laser dots.

“This is what I trained for,” Liam whispered to assure everyone.

No one was sure how many seconds had passed before Liam licked his lips and ventured, “Do we really think Outcast leftovers would be able to hack into SAM _and_ take down Ryder?”

Cora and Drack met eyes. A moment of instant communication. The Krogan grunted. The lieutenant sighed irritably, shaking her head. She lowered her shotgun, but shot a dark glance at the hidden Collective in the building rafters. The rest of the team followed suit. The laser bindis on everyone's foreheads vanished.

“If Ryder were here she'd have a bad joke about Mexican standoffs,” Liam offered.

“I'm not Mexican,” Reyes muttered.

“ _Like I said_ , a bad joke.”

Vetra was about to groan a second time when Reyes’ omni-tool flashed.

 _“Boss?”_ said the Salarian agent’s voice, tinny with caution.

Reyes drew his wrist close. “Go ahead.” The Tempest crew snapped to attention.

_“Lynx found a club kid with a shiner and what we believe is the Pathfinder’s jacket. We have her in the mountain. How to proceed?”_

“I’m on the way. Talk to our man at the port; check all departures in the past half-hour. I want patrol reports from all five points.”

Already the crew was talking quickly amongst themselves, mostly Jaal asking what was the significance of a shine-her.

“It’s a black eye,” Liam explained patiently.

“A false prophet? How will this lead us to Ryder?”

“No, buddy, like in a fight.” Liam pantomimed a suckerpunch to the Angara’s unprotected eye.

Jaal frowned. “To fend off a thief? Is Ryder this protective over all her possessions?”

The team forced themselves not to glance at Reyes, distracted, hand on his hip. He was still on the line, his face neutral.

Gil was vid-calling Cora. The engineer’s expression was pinched, a thermos rattling in his hand on-screen. No one knew if it was the caffeine or sleep deprivation.

“Tempest SAM is reporting that Ryder is still untraceable. Whoever got her was able to shut down her AI implant.”

Cora’s mouth was tight. “Do we know for certain her implant’s only turned off? We haven’t-- you haven’t gotten any confirmation from her brother that he hasn’t--” She carefully picked her words. “--hasn’t heard anything?”

“Scuttlebutt says Scott’s on assignment with the Turian Pathfinder somewhere out of the system. I’m not even sure if, in the event of--” Gil didn't finish the thought, instead looked meaningfully at Cora. “I’m not sure if SAM would be able to transfer to him.”

“So we’re still in the dark,” Vetra said.

“Until we know more.” Gil cleared his throat. “Anything from the ground?”

Cora glanced at Reyes, still pacing outside the group, switching in and out of communication lines. She said low, “It’s an unorthodox investigation. We’ll fill you in when we find out more.” They clicked off. Reyes had ended the last of his calls and looked up. All eyes were on him. He shifted.

“We have a lead. I’m heading back to base.”

“Fine. The Nomad’s parked outside. You’re riding with us. I plan on knowing as much as you do,” Cora said, crossing her arms. Reyes was almost as surprised as the rest of the team. He considered them for a moment, then glanced up at his snipers, and finally nodded.  
  


* * *

 

The girl gnawed on her lip. Her face was thin and stained with messy makeup and bruises. She sat hunched on a cold metal chair in the middle of the room, frightened by her surroundings.

In a connected side room, Jaal looked away from the live image on the monitor. “This is not someone with the skills to attack Ryder.”

Cora shrugged. “Toxicology scan says she was on _something_ around the same time we lost contact with Ryder. Maybe the jacket was some kind of accomplice prize.”

“I have a doctor checking her blood sample for any traces of steroids,” Reyes said.

Cora nodded, lost in thought. “Good call--” Her focus snapped back to skepticism, gesturing to her omni-tool. “Our medical officer onboard will also want a look--” Her interface chirped. The file was already sent.

Reyes made the slightest of shrugs. “We both want the same thing.”

“Right.” Cora kept her eye on him, forwarding the sample data to Lexi. She turned to Liam. “How long do we have until Ryder’s next check-in with Addison?”

“Seventy-two hours.”

“Well, shit,” she sighed.

Reyes was leaning down to a storage container and pulled out a nondescript black lockbox. He was about to make his way to the door. Drack regarded him coolly.

“Real _hands on_ , eh? You gonna do to that kid what your people did to Sloane’s Turian?”

Reyes met the Krogan’s eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get Ryder back.” He then looked to Cora, whose face hardened. She nodded her vote and distracted herself with checking something on her omni-tool. Jaal muttered low and grimaced. Without another word, Reyes disappeared into the hallway.  
  


* * *

  
The girl heard someone accessing the room’s entry-key. She looked straight ahead, heart hammering in her throat. The doors slid open for a dark, beautiful man. He strode in, carrying a box. She watched him pull a chair and small table close to her. He left the box, unopened, on the table. She chewed her busted lip. He was distractingly handsome, but the box was distractingly sinister. She couldn’t stop her body from shaking.

“I’m sorry if you’re cold in here, but that jacket didn’t belong to you,” he said lightly.

“I was just holding on to it for her,” the girl pleaded. The man’s eyes glinted. She trembled like a small animal.

“You can do better than that. You know whose it is?”

She talked over him. “I almost got those creeps off her, but-- but one of them gave me this and tased me.” She pointed at her black eye like it should’ve been obvious.

“Simply in the right place at the right time, were you?” The man’s gaze tracked her on a knife’s point. He was still as stone, implacable. “Who paid you to get the Pathfinder to that alley?”

The girl’s pupils were still dilated, and her face was completely open. “No one! I heard her hollerin’ from up the block, but by the time I got there, they were trying to drag her away somewhere. It’s was like she was tweaking or something.” She saw something unreadable flash across the man’s face then vanish.

“Who were they?”

“I don’t know. A man and a woman. Normal. I pawed at the guy’s face and got a handful of his shirt collar and was able to rip it. Real cheap shit.”

“You look like you’re someone who can discern quality.”

That caught her off-guard. “S-sure.” Before she could react, he reached out and roughly took her chin, looking over the rest of her face.

“How much would the Pathfinder’s jacket go for?” he mused.

“I don’t know. I don’t make that kind of scratch, mister.”

“No, what would it get _you_?”

Suddenly she jerked back and burst into tears, “I don’t snitch. I party. My-- my friend, she heard a recruiter guy hanging around the slums, t-talking up some kind of b-betterment program. Tellin’ me I should check it out. I told her no way, I wasn’t interested. I’m h-happy the way I am.” She stumbled over her hiccups. The harder she struggled for composure, the more tears streaked her face.

Something she said had shifted the man’s focus. “Stop crying,” he said. The box was now unlocked but unopened. “You’re going to talk to me about your friend or what you know about this program.”

“Wh-what does she have anything to do-- I don’t-- I don’t k-know anything about it. It-- it sounded like a b-boring sem-seminar kind of thing,” she insisted, shoulders shaking.

A shadow fell over the man’s face as he turned and slowly opened the box on the table. The girl couldn’t see what was inside, but something definitely metal glinted against the man’s eyes. She let out a frightened noise from the back of her throat.

“ _Growth and security_ ,” she almost screeched in her panic. “The guy-- His name was something, I don’t-- he had two names--” She tripped over her words. “Two first names. An old name-- like in a book.” There was thunder in her ribs when she dared to look at him. “ _Horace_. Horace Blake.”

The man’s gaze was no longer hard, but his hand still dipped into the box.

 _“I swear, mister,”_ she begged. _“That’s all I know.”_

He pulled out a pack of medi-gel and a sterile cloth. A small sob came out of her, and she began hiccuping again, face running with hot tears.

“Stop crying,” he repeated, gentle now. She went still as he wiped her cheeks and cleaned her wounds.

Eventually she said, almost a whisper, “My friend said he looked like he was made of Milky Way money.”

“Did she?” He treated the electrical burn on her arm, moving down to the cuts. He held out her hand as if he were admiring a ring.

“Scrappy little thing, aren’t you? Some real street work in these hands,” he said, almost sad. He looked up at her. She said nothing.

“Let’s see if we can find out who you scratched under your claws,” he murmured, taking a swab sample and sealing it. After a moment, he said quietly, “It’s dangerous around here to stick your neck out for a stranger, but you did it anyway. Why?”

“She wasn’t a stranger,” she said. “She was nice to me even though I was tripping my face off and too high to recognize her.” She cracked a tragic, ruined grin. “I’m still high now. This is the worst trip ever. Hey, you know what she called me? _Vidstar_.”  
  


* * *

  
The jackhammer in her skull was gone, replaced by a faint fuzz of white noise. Ryder’s eyes shot open. Everything in her blurred surroundings screamed Kett: mottled, militant, and gruesome. Her vision cleared, revealing an insidious chamber, identical to one of dozens she’d killed through before.

She recoiled. She was in a surgery gown, restrained by the wrists to an operating table. Ryder breathed out slowly to suppress all her instincts screaming in alarm. She tested her biotics, cursing when the bio-amp failed. Ryder gnashed her teeth, memory echoing with the rage and horror in Jaal’s howls when they laid eyes on the Kett’s experiments. She had to get the hell out of here.

Panic shivered up her spine when she realized SAM really wasn’t with her. She darkly wondered if maybe the AI had calculated her dismal odds for survival and had somehow jumped ship systems away, to Scott. Suddenly feeling very alone, she tried to shake the idea away. _It couldn’t possibly, would SAM--?_

She raked over what was slowly patching together in her memory. _Tartarus, Reyes’ hands, Cora’s message, smoke, SAM’s mangled warning, a white fire in her brain._ Her nerves slimed into anxiety, arriving at her dismal theory: she’d foolishly neglected to get rid of the Cerberus sociopaths, they’d captured her and were going to imprison her in their freaky mind control stream-of-consciousness poetry network.

_“Fuck.”_

This was the week of ghosts of missions past.

She craned to see behind her, noting the distinctly Initiative lab equipment. Great. That’s one down, she thought absurdly. At least she could still think. She really had to get out. She started messing with the restraints.

A door opened, and the woman scientist from Kadara strolled in, ignoring Ryder. Datapad in hand, she went to the complex machine behind the operating table.

“ _You_ \--” Ryder bared her teeth, got up on her elbows. “What did you do with SAM, you _evil_ \--”

The woman barely tapped her omni-tool before Ryder yelped in shock at the roaring buzz suddenly drowning her. It filled her nostrils and throat, painful, bubbling, like electrified seltzer shoved up her nose. Seconds passed as she choked and spat, twisting into contortions. The scientist continued referencing her notes. Finally, she tapped her omni-tool again. The painful buzzing vanished. Ryder recovered her breath, bewildered at what she’d just endured. Her lungs ached, her stomach roiled. _Be cool, Sara,_ she told herself between gasping for air. _What would Blasto do in this situation?_

“If you want your AI back, you need to keep your mouth shut,” the woman explained slowly, as though Ryder were a stupid child. Ryder finally saw the scratches on the woman’s face. She squinted, not knowing if it was her work. She couldn’t remember anything past the attack on SAM.

The padding of shoes echoed from the hall outside. Ryder jerked around to see who came through the door. The male scientist scowled at her first, then his colleague, who kept busy programming. By the damage to his face and neck, he looked like he had been assaulted by an angry rodent.

“Why am I not surprised you started without me?” he muttered as he began prodding Ryder and checking her vitals. She flinched. He ignored her discomfort. Ryder concentrated on what angle she’d need to throw her lower body at in order to jiujitsu her legs around his neck. Then she could--

A wave of tittering young voices bounced off the walls. A guard with a big, fuck-off gun came into the chamber, five young human women in simple white clothes coasting after him. The male scientist nodded, and the guard took his leave. Ryder was stunned, recognizing Sid’s friend from her Nexus profile. Their gazes were lucid, even bright-eyed. Ryder was relieved, then confused why they weren’t mindlessly quoting Auden. _What was going on?_ They appeared to be in good health, but without SAM, Ryder couldn’t be certain.

Ryder really looked at them. They could've been her classmates or even a year or two below. They stood, expectant, excited energy crackling. The folds of their clean white clothes moved like water as they bounced on their heels. Their eyes roved about the room, the equipment, and Ryder. She saw their different opinions of her, ranging from surprised to curious to stink eye. She breathed, resisting the urge to squirm.

“No one told me the Pathfinder had such a baby face,” said the freckled one, an angry scar across the bridge of her nose.

“In all the vids I’ve seen, she's always wearing a helmet,” reasoned the girl with braided blue hair.

“She looks like she just got her diploma.”

“Excuse me--!” Ryder started, indignant.

A dark girl with gray eyes twisted her face with worry. “What happened to both your faces? Looks like she gave you a hard time.” She glared at Ryder. “Why do you have to be so selfish about this?”

Ryder nearly choked on her spit. “Selfish?”

The male scientist waved away the younger woman’s concern. “No, no, you have it all wrong. We ran into some real _wildlife_ on Kadara. Charlie knows what I’m talking about,” he said, gesturing to the girl with the scar, who crossed her arms.

“Hey. Langley, when do we get to start, you know--” interrupted the shortest, imperious and stocky.

“All in due time,” the older woman, replied, distracted, annoyance clipping her words. “We still need to run a number of tests on the beta program before it’s ready to go.”

“Don’t worry,” the man reassured, timidly smiling at the group. “We’re just as excited about this as you are.”

Ryder was going to implode. Langley’s omni-tool began pinging incessantly.

Langley tutted with a nasty smile, marking her notes. “Why so stressed? Your blood pressure is abysmal.”

Ryder barely held back a growl. Langley looked to her colleague. “Why don’t we let our,” she paused almost imperceptibly, “-- _guest_ become acquainted with her mentees?”

“ _Mentees_ , hah, good one,” the man chuckled. A couple of the girls laughed along.

Ryder’s eyes could not bug out more. “ _What the fuck?_ What the fuck are you talking about?”

The woman had again triggered her omni-tool. The slightest white gnawing buzzed at the back of Ryder’s skull. Langley bent her head low to Ryder, shadowing over her, the buzz cresting higher. Ryder stilled, focusing to work through the muted pain. The woman took her by the chin, forcing Ryder to meet her eyes. The woman’s gaze was penetrating, two hazel windows to a long-burning wrath. Her voice was thin, deceptively light.

“Try anything clever, and I’ll turn you as helpless as you did me.”

Ryder kept silent, everything that transpired inside the remote shack on Kadara running through her head. It flickered in her mind’s eye like it happened a lifetime ago. The woman and her colleague had appeared paralyzed, afraid to fight back. Now the look on the scientist’s face was completely different from when Ryder and her team were destroying their lab equipment.  
  
Langley’s words were almost silken now. “How does it feel to be demoted back to a mere mortal?”

The tension in Ryder’s body gradually melted as the buzz disappeared. Langley was fussing with her omni-tool as she left Ryder. She looked down to see her wrists unshackled. Carefully she got up, slowing the rush of blood to her head.

Langley cleared her throat at her colleague distracting the group with animated conversation. He followed her out. The younger women turned to Ryder, who was still on the table collecting herself.

Charlie slowly grinned, her scar stretched long. “You get five questions, _Sara_.” More stifled titters erupted from the younger of the group.

Ryder’s eyes narrowed, disliking this one more by the minute. Maybe this one should be concerned with the occupancy size of whatever escape pod Ryder decided to commandeer. Okay, Blasto, that’s enough. She wanted to hit herself. Instead, she gritted her teeth. “Alright, how are we getting out of here?”

Someone scoffed. “She’s joking, right?”

Ryder was already swiveling around, looking at all the room for hidden ducts, any kind of exit. “Don’t you realize this is a scam? Those two don’t care about you.”

The scrawniest of the group scoffed, “Right, and you and the Initiative do?” .

The girl with the blue hair roped a protective arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Yeah, where was the Initiative when the Kett took Sierra’s family?”

“Or when your mom was having manic fits every other day. Right, Jules?” Sierra added solemnly.

“Up until her last.” Blue Hair almost spat.

“I do Pathfinding, not PR,” Ryder muttered.

“What?”

“But they-- I was told you were kidnapped,” Ryder tried again. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

“Says who?”

“Says… the Nexus?” Ryder bit the inside of her cheek, hating how feeble it sounded.

“ _Fuck the Nexus_. Fuck all of the Initiative. They’re the reason my family’s gone,” Charlie snarled, freckles and scar reddening. Her sharp body language was mirrored by the group, a wash of frowns and white cloth. The collective doubt was suffocating.

“Listen, I don't know what these assholes promised you, but they are bad news. I know it sounds crazy, but they were experimenting with mind control,” Ryder found herself almost whispering.

“Fake news,” Charlie said flatly.

“I was there!” Ryder hotly insisted, frustration mounting. She searched into each of their faces, desperate for a connection. “They trapped a Krogan, an Asari, and a Salarian in a room in the middle of the Badlands, just babbling at their wit’s end.”

The ones with the softer glances looked like they wanted to believe her but shrugged anyway.

 _“They worked for Cerberus!”_ Ryder hissed.

Blue-haired Jules cocked her head. “Wasn’t that, like, a human-survivalist group?” The others agreed with vaguely affirmative murmurs and nods. Ryder wanted to scream. She wanted to grab them all by their throats and chuck them into the escape pod before Langley and her Igor-assistant hijacked their brains.

“That’s-- that’s not-- it's not what you think that means,” she said lamely.

“Listen, Sara, we understand. The Initiative has their narrative you have to walk. We get it.” Charlie rolled her eyes. “But you don’t have to be so patronizing. I mean, not all of us got an AI and a fast ship when they woke up in Andromeda.”

Ryder groaned. “That’s not at all how it happened.”

“It’s basically what happened,” Jules scoffed.

“Well. I didn’t ask for it.” Ryder said dismissively.

“So that means you won’t mind sharing your AI schematics with us.” Charlie offered, shrugging to appear casual.

“But you’re not--”

“A Pathfinder? From a rich scientist family? What? Please, Sara, tell us why we’re unworthy of an AI like yours."

“It’s not like that,” Ryder grumbled.

“It’s not sanctioned, you mean. You having a hard time telling us this isn’t what your dad and the Initiative had in mind?”

“For starters, yeah. And the fact your friends knocked me unconscious and kidnapped me.”

“Hob likes to remind us ‘better to ask for forgiveness than permission’.”

“Are you kidding me? Who? That nerd asshole from earlier?”

Charlie snorted. “No, Hob is, like, our rich, fairy godfather. He said he wanted to meet you later, oh great and powerful mentor.”

“You’re going to help us calibrate our AIs,” Jules said evenly.

“Right. Your promised AIs.” Ryder said, sarcasm dripping. She shook her head and looked at Mick, who hadn’t yet spoken. “I don’t know if you know this, but your friend, Sid, she’s worried about you.” The girl’s long hair hid her expression.

“Who’s she talking about?” Charlie asked, suspicious.

“This Turian I worked with. Back in Nexus Operations,” Mick said low. “She didn’t like Hob talking to me.”

The girl with gray eyes nodded, dark hair shaking emphatically. “Of course. They don’t want you trying to get the upper edge, trying to carve out your path by any means necessary.”

Ryder huffed out a breath. “You really think having an AI will make everything better for you?”

“Yes. Help us, and you’ll get yours back.”

“Hard bargain you’re driving,” she resisted spitting. Fine. She could play along. “So. Jules, Mick, Sierra, and Charlie. Last but not least.”

Gray Eyes stuck her dark hands into her pockets. “Call me India.”

Ryder squinted. “That’s… Practically all from the phonetic alphabet. Why?”

“Your final allotted question,” Charlie said, a fearsome glint in her teeth. “We have our reasons for being here. Some of us may have picked new names for our fresh start. Why don’t you help us with a better hand in the game of life?” She grinned again. “C’mon, Sara, do us a solid, you're with the bad girls now, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Endless gratitude and schmoopies to snappleducated aka the bestist sestra for all the infinite patience and indispensable helpfulness while I slowly cobble this together. You always make me wanna strive to write gooder. 
> 
> Also thanks to Joss Whedon for writing and producing "Dollhouse".


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cora, Liam, and Peebee rendezvous with Reyes at a special location on Kadara. Ryder remembers her and Reyes' victory rendezvous in a special storage room on Hyperion Ark on Meridian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to snappleducated for their continual kindness and patience with me throwing embarrassing lemon draft after draft,
> 
> AND for graciously letting me borrow Cafe Tiramisu. I fell in love with its first appearance in the inestimable, devastating "Magpie Bridge"
> 
> I don't know if this qualifies as *explicit*, but it's the most I've mashed my face behind my hands while typing. Hope yall enjoy!

_Chapter Four_

The Tempest crew was rattled. No one stopped too long in front of the Pathfinder’s quarters. They kept busy to distract themselves from her absence.  

Cora hadn’t rested well. She looked herself in the mirror as she mechanically brushed her teeth, noting with clinical detachment the lines of tension around her eyes.

She needed to analyze and pick apart what it felt like when Alec Ryder died. Then she could understand her body’s reactions, compartmentalize. She remembered the rolling dread in her stomach had felt more paralyzing yet removed after the Pathfinder title had passed to his daughter. The anxiety now was more raw. The past eighteen hours she focused on and off to quiet her nerves over the crew’s next moves, struggling to convince herself it was okay they hadn’t heard anything yet. Liam loomed behind her with a tired smile.

“Harper,” he greeted. “Didn't see you at breakfast.”

She spat into the sink. “Got up earlier than usual. Needed the time to meditate.”

Liam nodded sagely. “Right, yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck. She could already tell he was wrestling with something. “So we have about a day cycle before Ryder’s check-in report with Addison. How do you want to handle this? Rock-Paper-Scissors? I asked Vetra, but she probably won’t be able to smuggle us straws in time.”

Cora sighed. “Can’t say I’m jumping at the prospect to tell them we don’t know where Ryder is.”

“We could, uh, make Lexi say Ryder has the flu and on doctor’s orders can’t leave the Med Bay?” The Kosta dimples made their reappearance. Cora narrowed her eyes.

“I am not in favor of lying to our bosses.”

“What about just, like, little lies?”

“No.”

“ _C’mon_ , it would be very Reyes of us.”

Cora made an ‘ugh’ noise and spat into the sink again.

“I guess that means you don’t want me to make the call. You’re the only one who can be trusted with the responsibility.” He trailed off innocently.

“As if your bogus plan would even work in the first place. Have you heard Drack try to lie to Kesh? It’s embarrassing.”

“You have a point, yes.” He closed his eyes deep in thought and muttered, “Speaking of family members.” He looked back at Cora. “Vetra’s on the line with Sid. Maybe the kid’s friend is also involved in this betterment program.”

“Hey, when you talked to Lexi, had she heard of any advocacy groups like that?” Cora drummed her fingers on the sink. “Maybe they’ve finally started helping people with cryostasis trauma.”

He shook his head. “She wishes that were the case. She’s been corresponding with the Nexus science team on possible ways to encourage folks to come forward for treatment, but Tann is prioritizing infrastructure over welfare.”

Cora took a long breath and exhaled. “Decisions way above my pay grade. Anyone else up for this rendez-vous?”

“I think it’s just me. Drack’s already at Kralla’s. Starting early, but who am I to judge. Said he’s quote unquote listening for idiots running their mouth. I’ll admit it’s hard to imagine that Krogan doing any kind of low-key eavesdropping. Gil’s on the network, trying to see if he can reach the ship Scott’s on, and Kallo is doing the same with the Salarian Pathfinder.”  

Cora added, “I know Jaal hates being on Kadara, so he’s talking to the Resistance about anyone who might still be pissed about the Vehn Terev situation.”

Peebee popped her head out on their way to the hangar. Poc floated behind her, tentacles mirroring the Asari’s excitement like a Remnant mood ring bot. If mood rings had lasers.

“HEY. Are you meeting who I think you’re meeting…? _Aaand_ Cora just rolled her eyes, so that’s a yes. Great! I’m tagging along.”

“I can’t wait to hear Ryder laughing her ass off when she finds out we’ve had to work with her gangster boyfriend,” Liam mused to himself. Cora forced a tight smile, wishing she knew where he stashed his hopeful optimism.

 

* * *

 

Peebee eyeballed the seedy black market stalls adjacent to Cafe Tiramisu. “One of these things is not like the other.”

The interior of the bistro was bright, cheery, frothy-- everything Kadara wasn’t. The waitress led them out to the terrace where Reyes sat, leg crossed with a cup of coffee and a slew of datapads.

Peebee whistled. “You can see the mountains from here.” She bounced on her feet, scrambling to check out the different vantage points.

“Yes, it’s so… open,” Cora managed, looking around suspiciously.

“Aw, it’s fine,” Liam insisted. “We can have our backs to the corner. Very Wild Bill Hickok, us.”

Reyes casually pressed a command on his omni-tool. A green-and-white striped canopy motorized into action, unfurling over the terrace.

Peebee gasped. “Reyes, are you a crime boss man _and_ a restaurateur?”

“I just have access to the controls,” he demurred and took another sip of coffee. The waitress returned with a carafe, cups, and a complimentary plate of assorted Heleus-inspired _prima_ _colazione_. Peebee zoomed back to the table.

Liam took a seat, looking around admiringly, “This is some serious Euro charm, man. Almost makes me feel like I’m back on holiday between uni.” Reyes gave a modest but elegant shrug. Liam shrugged back, and eagerly reached for the carafe.

“Are these actual sugar cubs?” Peebee popped one into her mouth.

“ _Cubes_ , B’Sayle, cubes,” Liam said, lightly blowing to cool his drink. “You don’t want those. Go for the biscuits.”

“Nah, I like cubs better.” She ate another one.

Cora stared at the twee furniture, tiny plates, and bite-sized foods. “Shall we begin?”

Reyes put down his cup, all business as he laid out the datapads. “This,” he meaningfully passed to Cora. “--is what my team got on the Nexus lab equipment. And here is all I found on Blake.” His finger lingered on the screen, a thought left unspoken.

Liam picked it up. “Horace Blake, thirty-four years old. _Huh,_ I guess I had it in my head he was an old guy. Former executive stockholder of Aldrin Labs, Board of Trustees, _etcetera etcetera_ . Noted philanthropist-slash-venture capitalist with investments all over the Sol System but was about to be subpoenaed for alleged fraud before joining the Andromeda Initiative. _Convenient_ ,” he muttered. “Trust fund baby? That must’ve been nice.”

“Born sliding into home plate believing he hit a homerun,” Reyes said, contemplative, pouring another cup.

Cora struggled with an embarrassed smile, trying to hide it behind her knuckles. “I... may have thought the same about Scott and Sara when Alec brought them on.”

The table broke out in laughs and snickers, with Liam rasping, _“Savage.”_   

Cora made a _hnn_ noise. She drank the coffee black. Maybe it was a little nuttier than she was used to but not horrible, she admitted. Her attention fell to the biscotti on the plate. Probably too good to be true. She dipped one and tasted it. Not nearly as buttery, so definitely permissible if she ate two more.

Peebee peered over the photo in the datapad, tut-tutting at Reyes _. “Uh oh_ , white collar crime AND a handsome bad boy. You, sir, may have some competition.”

“I’m not worried.” Reyes relaxed in his chair. “The Collective is doing well.”

Peebee continued slyly, “Oh, you think I was talking about business. I meant Ryder. She kinda has a type.”

Cora snorted and glanced at Reyes who, for a moment, looked not as confident. Weird.

“Peebs,” Liam groused. “You are eating all the sugar cubes when there is a plate of actual food right in front of you.”

The Asari shook her finger. “Henceforth, I have renamed these little guys cubs. _Sugar_ cub, _ice_ cub, I’m trying to create the first viral extranet-thing in Andromeda. _Aid me in this side quest._ ”

Liam stroked his chin. “I’m pretty sure Ryder was the first to go viral with her _‘Greetings from Meridian, I have saved Heleus’_ soundbyte.”

“ _Noo_ , I’m aiming for something more low-brow,” Peebee said, waving her hands.

Before he could stop himself, Reyes’ memory went back to Ryder making the victory laps to everyone around the Hyperion Ark on Meridian. He had forced himself to look down at his omni-tool in order to stop worriedly counting the cuts and bruises on her face.

Reyes couldn’t have known that far off, many systems away Sara was high on Letheum, thrown into a brig, and reliving the same memory.

 

* * *

 

 _Punch-drunk and dazed from all the enthusiastic thumps on the back, Ryder managed to navigate the waving mass of well-wishers. She sought Reyes like an anchor, wanting to take one step closer and touch his wrist, if everyone would just_ stop _looking and beaming at her._

_“Want to slip away? Found a great storage room. Sturdy crates. Secluded. No interruptions.”_

_“Down, boy. We have an audience,” she said low, cheeks flushed, impish. She added a wink she hoped conveyed ‘hell yes’. “Will you be around later?” She chewed her lip._

_His hand twitched, like he wanted to touch her. “I’ll be around,” he promised._

_Several toasts later and out of her armor, Ryder blinked owlishly. Everyone helpfully ensured she had a drink to raise for each toast. Clutching the newest glass, she searched for Reyes in the mixed crowd. Frowning, she excused herself from a bleary Jaal recovering from a shot of ryncol gifted by Drack._

_She wandered into the atrium, upset that Reyes wasn’t witnessing everyone gushing over her. Despite minutes ago feeling like a very big, invulnerable hero, she sniffed. He probably had to get back to Collective business. At least he could’ve messaged a goodbye, or even a see you soon. Owning that she was being completely over-dramatic, she imagined her heart literally sinking in her chest. She_ definitely _shouldn’t drunk-text him. Ryder paced, grumbling to herself to keep from tearing up. Maybe she doesn’t need to finish this drink. She considered the glass morosely._

_Scott came out of nowhere, poking at his arm sling. “Hey moron. Get lost looking for the bathroom?”_

_“Excuse me, who’s the twin who got kidnapped, and who’s been saving the day and shit?”_

_Scott rolled his eyes. “As if anyone would want to kidnap your brat ass. Don't give me that face. Did they run out of alcohol? What are you doing out here anyway?”_

_“‘What are you doing out anyway?’” she mimicked nastily. “Aren’t you supposed to be_ convalescing _?”_

_He shrugged, cracked his back. “Fuck you, I got better.”_

_Lexi’s voice echoed from paces behind. “Scott Ryder, get back here. I leave for one minute, and by the Goddess, you find a way to…”_

_“Busteddd,” Sara hissed before her omni-tool lit up, Reyes calling on their private channel. She gasped like a character in a murder mystery. “Gottagobyeeeeee.” She scuttled as far as she could from Scott and Lexi before picking up the call._

_“Congratulations again, Ryder,” Reyes said breezily._

_“Did you already go? You said you’d be around,” she tried to not to wail, disappointed his camera wasn’t turned on._

_“What? You know I can’t resist a party.” Ryder could hear the smile in his voice, dimly noted the shivers up her arm. She grinned stupidly as he said, “How could I miss all the toasts about my favorite person? Had to let the people celebrate the Pathfinder before I try to steal her away. But here she is.”_

_“I'm your favorite person?” She couldn’t tell if her body was heating up from him or the alcohol. “Wait, how do you know where I am? Stalker.” She stopped pacing and looked to see if he was hiding behind a wall display._

_“You’re cold,” he said softly._

_What?” she breathed._

_"Go back to where you were. Let’s play that game where you find someone by temperature.”_

_Ryder clamped a hand over her mouth before she guffawed. That would not be cute and proper comportment of a Pathfinder trying to get laid. She couldn’t get rid of the dumb grin plastered on her face, so she tried to walk back casually, looking at her options._

_“Warmer,” Reyes said encouragingly._

_She banged a left, stopping expectantly at the first door in the hallway. She took a gulp from her glass._

_“Ryder, did you leave your jacket somewhere? You‘re cold again.”_

_“Ugggghh, for skkut’s sake, am I supposed to double-back?”_

_Radio silence._

_"You play dirty,” she accused._

_“You have no idea,” he said gravelly._

_Ryder closed her eyes, drinking in the moment, swaying slightly. If dying multiple times and defeating a_ really _big bad Kett resulted in people giving her booze and Reyes saying more things like this to her, maybe Pathfinding wasn’t so bad._

_A silence hung. She realized neither of them had said anything. Reyes sounded almost apologetic. “Too much?”_

_She blinked. “No, no, not too much,” she said shyly. “I really like it when you’re-- I was just--” Ryder viciously shook her head and went down the hallway to the next possible door._

_“You’re hot,” he said, somehow enunciating both meanings._

_“That’s definitely the first time anyone’s said that to me.”_

_“Really? Then let me do better. You’re fiery, smoldering… so close, Ryder” he pressed, laughing easily._

_She liked his laugh. She wanted to hear all the different laughs he could make. She ran as if pursued by a purification Remnant death-cloud but still refusing to spill any of her drink. She opened the door, nearly throwing herself through before it closed. Sitting on a crate amidst a wall of crates, Reyes turned and beamed at her. For a minute they just looked at each other. Ryder thought she was vibrating. Be cool._

_She chirped, “Very nice storage room. Smaller than last time, but there’s enough space for the two of us. Bravo Zulu, Mr. Vidal.”_

_“Have I been demoted to last name basis?” He frowned._

_“Depends. How good are your negotiation skills?”_

_He rose slowly. “I can be pretty persuasive,” he murmured. She thought her knees were melting._

_He took her drink for a taste. “Hmm. Tart, yet sweet on the tongue.” A wink. “Reminds me of someone.”_

_She barked a nervous, but excited laugh, ducking down. “Well, good. It’s named after me.”_

_"‘The Sara’?”_

**_“_ ** _The_ **_ROUGH RYDER!_ ** _” she thundered wildly before knocking her head back for a mad “arOOOOOOO”, howling at a moon Meridian didn’t have._

_"You are what you drink.” Reyes touched her hot cheek. “And how many have you had?”_

_"Pathfinders don’t deal in numbers,” she said, slurring a little. “Talk to my science officers if you want hard data. Speaking of hard, maybe I'll just--”_

_He hummed, gently brushing her eager hands from his belt. She felt him step back, trying to determine her level of intoxication._

_“SAM,” she muttered. “Make me like... ten percent more sober, so Reyes doesn’t feel weird about me ravaging him.”_

_Reyes’ eyebrows shot up. “He can do that?”_

Pathfinder, sobriety is not measured in percentages, but I will do my best to accelerate your body’s metabolization.

_Ryder squeezed her eyes shut as SAM adjusted her. She grabbed onto Reyes’ shoulder for balance, squinting one eye open. “Too much? Have I skeeved you out?”_

_“I think it’s cool,” he admitted._

_“I think it’s cool you’re so open-mi--” Her eyes rolled back, and she fainted._

_A strangled “Hey--!” came out of him as he caught her._

_Ryder smothered a laugh, kissing below his ear to feel his pulse quicken.“Sorry. Wanted to see if it was like in the vids, you know, when the hero dramatically swoons after she survives the most incredible act of bravery.” She crowed, “Life_ does _imitate art.”_

_“SAM, I’m not sure it worked,” Reyes deadpanned._

_“Okay, maybe there’s no epic string music, but I can work with this. SAM, please take the lights down most of the way.” Ryder splayed her palms across his shoulders. He hissed when she accidentally brushed an injury under his jacket. She jerked her hand away like a burn, stuttering an apology, confidence evaporating._

_Shaking his head, Reyes tucked her arm back around him before she could fly away. He was all she could see._

_“I almost didn’t believe it when I heard you over the wire,” she said, sheepish. She didn’t know what the right word was, something like the way he was looking at her._

_“It was fun. I like surprising you.”_

_“No kidding,” she said drily. “Boy am I glad I didn't have to break up with you over this one.”_

_“Me too,” he said sincerely._

_“Thanks for stopping by.” She squinted her eyes in an exaggeration of him. Reyes clucked his tongue, squeezed her closer. She buried her face in the smell of his collar and closed her eyes._

_On the twins' tenth birthday Alec Ryder was called away to the Citadel. Ellen took the kids to a zoo on Earth. Scott had scampered for the big cat exhibit, Sara the reptile house. Hours later she was found glued in front of a king python feeding. She watched the field mouse struggle against the hypnotic, almost obscenely writhing golden scales. Mesmerized, Sara fogged the glass with her breath as the mouse was slowly crushed in the python’s tight, smothering coils. She put her arms around herself, imagining being so trapped, so completely embraced, like someone never wanted to let her go._

_Reyes murmured into her hair. “Hyperion to Pathfinder, do you copy?”_

_“Affirmative,” she muttered. Quick, say something that's not about sex and death._

_“Just thinking about you punching that exalted Krogan into next week. Talk about a killer left hook. Woof.” Okay, good enough._

_Reyes’ mouth curved into a rakish grin. She decided then and there on her list of hobbies in this brave new world would be getting him to smile so his eyes crinkled._

_“It may have been after seeing you get thrown halfway across the beach,” he confessed. “Stop doing that.” Keeping an arm around her, he smoothed her hair away, muttering disapprovingly over her scrapes and bruises._

_“I know, pretty hideous right now, but I promise soon I’ll just be pretty. Insert joke about bumping uglies,” she said, armoring herself with self-deprecation. “SAM, take the lights down another--”_

_“SAM, don't you dare,” Reyes said sharply. “Let me see you.” She let out a small whine as he looked her over. “Yes… just as I thought. Still pretty. Don't move. I have it on good authority from SAM this is good for the healing process.” He began planting kisses on her face, and she struggled against him, laughing, embarrassed, delighted._

Your father approved of some holistic treatments when it came to your mother, _SAM suddenly reminded._

_“WOW, you’ve already have been so helpful this evening, SAM,” Ryder groaned._

I was correlating it to our dialogue about your romantic attachment to Mr. Vidal--

_“GOOD NIGHT, SAM. I CAN HANDLE IT FROM HERE.”_

Logging out, Pathfinder.

_What did it mean if AI started to sound miffed? Better note this for later, she thought distractedly. She cleared her throat. “Uh, so what SAM was talking about--” The thought melted as Reyes pressed her against the wall, trapping her._

_“Enough talking.” He dragged his fingers through her hair. Second thought: make Reyes do that more. “You’ve been talking to people all night.” He kissed her, slowly, deeply. Her brain fizzled out until--_

_“So, is this from you or the Charlatan?” She stared at his perfect mouth._

_“Don't make me use that scarf on you.”_

_“Is that a promi--” He seized her again, kissing like a demand, biting her lip. A heady moan escaped her when they parted. He thumbed her cheek._

_“_ That _I’d like to hear more of,” he said low._

_Heat pooled in her belly. Cheeks burning, she twitched her thighs shut, and looked up, defiant. “Make me.”_

_She thought his gaze would darken, he’d rip her shirt off, or something as intense. Instead he only smiled, hummed, eyes crinkled. Ryder whispered thanks to whatever higher being had been listening. Additional thank yous were interrupted by his insistent mouth on her throat, the sound of zippers, their jackets dropping to the floor._

_Reyes was picking her up, setting her on a crate, eyeing her as she took off her shirt. Her cheeks were red even in the dim light, almost as heated as her gaze._

_“Get back here,” she muttered, tugging him back for another kiss. They bumped foreheads. “Can't do anything right today,” she chuckled low._

_“You did everything right,” he sighed. “Let me thank you on behalf of the galaxy.”_

_It was still hitting her that the Archon was dead. The Archon was_ dead _, and by some interstellar miracle Ryder wasn't. She groped for a low-hanging quip about an Andromeda bucket list but what floated to the surface were her mother’s words. “Fall in love, at least once.” Ryder looked at Reyes shrugging off his shirt. He flashed her a smile, and her chest tightened. It was too much. She swallowed._

_“Yeah, sure, whole debacle was no big deal, but go ahead, thank away.” She crossed her ankles behind him. “These crates better be fuckin’ sturdy. Pun intended,” she added, immediately smug._

_“Stop talking, Ryder, you gave me a mission,” he said, palmed between her legs, grinning darkly when he got a mewl out of her.  “You know, that was a good drink, but I want the original.”_

_“I haven't had time to--” With heavy-lidded eyes she watched, hypnotized, as he slid down her underwear._

_“I don't care.” He bit the softness of her thighs._

_She twitched to feel so wanted, swallowing again. “Fine.” Her whine hitched into a gasp, hands fluttering to him, leaving her fingers in his hair. She felt his breath on her. On impulse she squeezed her thighs, then let go._

_“Ryder.”_

_“Yeah?” she barely got out._

_Reyes murmured against her. “Thank you.”_

_His first achingly slow lap, and she sighed his name like a prayer, melted like candy for him. His hands dug into her hips, and he worked her, filling the small room with her shaky breaths and shudders. She was panting, wriggling, as he ate her._

_“No one’s around. Be louder for me. C’mon, Ryder,” he said, coaxing her with his mouth, his fingers._

_She choked on a sob, and he groaned against her. He cupped her breast, revelling in her so soft and pliant. She gave a delicious, indignant moan when he pinched her nipple._

_When her legs started trembling and his name became please, he knew she was close. She was thrashing against his mouth, begging him don’t stop. Reyes sighed into her, wanting to keep this for a long time, sear into memory her biting the side of her thumb, writhing under him. He touched her, and she came, jerking in his hands._

_Seconds passed. The room was quiet, returning to focus. A luxurious smile swept her face as she recovered her breath, muscles remembering themselves. She cracked one eye open, stroked his cheek. “That was a pretty good thank you.”_

_Reyes gave a nice, low laugh as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. She eyed him sidelong._

_“C’mere.” She leaned down, cupping his face for a kiss. She nipped at his jawline, trying sneakily undo his pants._

_“What do you want, Ryder?” he teased._

_“As Pathfinder--” Her voice was grounded, low. “I order you to fuck me.”_

_Reyes scoffed, handsome in his derision. “I don’t answer to the Initiative,” he said haughtily._

_“How dare you. You're aboard an Initiative ship. You will obey instruction.” She leaned closer to kiss the bandaged wound she had offended earlier. She felt his smile against her forehead as she pressed her palms against his hips. She moved to hop off the crate, sink to her knees, hear what he sounded like when she took him in her mouth. Reyes stayed her._

_“Next time,” he promised. “You shouldn’t. Your doctor--”_

_Their fingers brushed.  Ryder trailed her hands lower. “Here’s what I was looking for. Oh. Hi.” She hummed appreciatively, really glad she made it out alive._

_Reyes made a restrained sound from the back of his throat, her name a warning._

_She switched tactics, grinding against him as she stroked. Her breath was shallow, panting. “Back there. In the vault. We were in a bad spot. I heard you. Over the radio. Before the signal cut out. It was like-- like you were with me.” She spread her legs, taking his hand to show how wet she still was. They groaned together._

_“I wanted to be,” he managed and pushed into her, hot and slick. She gasped into his neck, squeezed her eyes, feeling herself stretch around him. Her back hit the wall in rhythm as he began slowly pumping into her. She pulled him closer, demanding more. Reyes raised one of her legs over his shoulder, thrusting to the hilt. Her ragged string of profanities broke through the heavy molten air of the storage room. He feverishly agreed. Her flexibility would kill him someday, if not her younger everything else._

_“You’re so good,” she repeated like a mantra, helplessly rutting against him, nails raking his back. Reyes growled, reached to her, his strong grip closing around her throat. He forced her to look at him. She wilted, whined, a sleepy but eager light in her eye._

_His kiss was rough, punishing, knuckles brushing her swollen clit. His mouth took the strangled wail that came out of her, moving with her, building her back up. He buried deep into her as she clenched around him._

_“Shit,” he groaned as she began fucking him back, the crate banging loudly against the wall. Over the roar of her blood was Reyes making the best noises she heard in her life. Ryder was sure she was going to explode again just from the sound of him._

_“Do it. Please. I want you to,” she begged low. She nuzzled him, bit his shoulder. His hand was hot on the back of her neck, keeping her close. He pressed his thumb against her, and she bucked at the sweet friction, coming, clenching him fiercely._

_Her name was honey from his broken mouth when he came, drowning in her. Ryder felt her gut twist painfully. She kissed him, longingly, hips meeting his staggered thrusts. Her heart beat wildly when he draped over her, carding his fingers in her damp hair. They in turn laughed softly, regaining their breath._

_She squeezed her legs around him once more. “How do I smuggle you onboard?” she mused, half serious._

_“By asking nicely,” he sighed, leaning his cheek against hers._


End file.
